Angels among us
by Fate4Destiny
Summary: Set in 2014 endverse. 5.04. What if there was another angel, a sort of 'ground zero' for what Castiel can do, how he behaves? A memory of humanity. Or is it still pointless? Humanity didn't need Lucifer to destroy it, it was doing that itself. Contains an OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I um, tried a different style of writing. ****_And I somehow ended up going past tense to present tense to past tense. So, please ignore that_****. I don't feel like going back and changing all the details.**

**A/N2: this is one of my favourite supernatural story universes. 2014. I'm fully planning on doing another one.**

**A/N3: I have never done drugs. So, please, spare me the fact I'm probably getting all the drug facts wrong. **

**Warnings (for the entire story): mentions of angel incest, mentions of sex, may potentially be sex later on, drugs use, suicide, murder, drinking... I think that covers the main ones**

**disclaimer: I own Remiel as my oc. I don't own Dean or Castiel or Lucifer, etc, etc**

~XxX~

She moved like a blur, lithe and graceful, efficient and deadly. Her blade drips blood, but not a single drops lands on her. When the body falls, Dean and the others notice the gash on the person's back, no swelling but plenty of blood. A sign they were cut open, dripped into.

The gun is thrown towards Castiel who does not reach for it, the drugs in his system make him too sluggish. Another man, an ex-hunter, takes it instead. The man casts Castiel a look, a look which tell Castiel that he shouldn't be here while under the influence. Castiel doesn't care. He never will care for human emotions after this. To have fallen to be their equal is a thought which disgusts his core, even though he knows he's even lesser than these hunters around him now.

The female cuts another down, then another. Castiel watched, tries to remember why it's like a dance he once too had been part of. His mind, now of human capacity, has lost most of his thoughts, ideas, even ways of thinking. His knowledge is hardly vast, it's rather pathetic. He had no control over what he kept, what he lost. Though he knows if his mind kept enough traces of this 'dance' to keep the feeling of familiarity, it must have occupied a decent amount of his previous memories.

She falls lower, almost hitting the ground. Her eyes are glazed with trust, that Castiel can see and read. Dean thinks she went down, and holds a gun to the infected people. Castiel holds a hand out to stop him which Dean glares at him for. Castiel will pay for that later, he knows. But for now, he feels as though he must watch her.

And then it comes clear in his mind in the most muddiest of ways. A fall of trust. He hardly remembers voices, the feel of wings which would always be on his back from it. A longing memory he searches for but simply cannot find. A fledgling's first taste of being able to use their wings for balance. To fall, and trust that if you could not save yourself by your humanoid form, your wings would catch you. To be able to use your wings as part of you.

But now she has no wings, he knows. She manages to catch herself and spins on her heels, rising up. She just misses the splatter of blood that splashes across the ground and other people. Castiel can see her eyes are wide open and he feels rather sorry for her. For both of them. Another fledgling task they cannot manage.

To have originally been able to sense, somehow feel, like another sense, the world around them. When Gabriel dumped water at them and their job was to close your eyes, let human senses such as hearing go, and come out dry. Angels hardly needed those senses. They were so interconnected with the world around them, they were everywhere and in themselves all at once. Much like how the drugs makes Castiel feel. But there is no exact compromise.

He sees her holding the blade like Michael had taught them to counter off demons and such. He sees the small bit of grace Lucifer had taught a few especially talented angels about. Castiel had not been one of those. Hand to hand combat, something many angels never even bothered learning, was something he hardly passed through. As long as an angel could muster their grace in their being, they would be more than prepared for any demonic attack.

Demonic, evil, monsters, no angels had ever used the word human on them. Even Lucifer never touched that subject. Now, they were killing humans. Perhaps infected with a type of subdue evil, a type of monstrous disease which was poisonous to the touch. But still human. And from his human eyes, unable to see souls of what laid inside, Castiel only saw death. A murder of the race he tried so hard to protect five years ago.

The only comfort was if he was going to rely on sight, the murderers were human. He had seen centuries of wars, murder, massacre, enough blood and flesh ripped from bones to let the sickness have been washed away. But traces still remained. The feeling of nausea, at the blood being spilt. How he felt pain only too real at this point, and could imagine that knife going through his own body. He wanted to puke.

The group of the infected dropped, all dead. The women looked at Castiel, eyes sleep deprived, lonely, self-hate and regret evident in them. Castiel lowered his eyes, unable to comfort her. Somehow, he knew her. Felt for her like an older brother. She had nobody to help her through this. Probably with no clear idea what was happening. Even though he left, and then the angels left, in these days where everyone he once knew were dead or changed far past what he once regarded as friends, she was a broken piece of a puzzle. They both were. A puzzle which would never be built again, a puzzle which showed the glory of what they called family. Of their race. Their species. It had been their family feud which caused humanity to flicker away this time. And their elder brother, Lucifer, was waiting to blow out the last flicker, making his darkness cover the world.

The female still looked at him, looking at him for a sign he remembered. Looking at him for what she should do next. He can offer none. He simply cocks his own gun and looks at Dean for an answer. Dean glares at him, pushing past the makeshift troops to head back on the path he decided to take mere minutes ago. Castiel knows how the female feels, rejected. Angels were meant to serve. Only the archangels had a type of leadership ingrained in them. Something which could be called a flaw at this moment.

She walks a step behind him on his right hand side. He doesn't know why, knows she can smell the pot on him, see how his pupils are still slightly blown up. How dirty his body his, how dirty of a person he is now. Disgrace in comparison makes him bow his head slightly. A reminder of what he had once been. And god how he hates it. He wants to tell her to leave, go back home, adapt or die beside and with humanity. He had lost whatever link he had to his past angelic self. What could he claim as family between them now?

He remembers a bitter truth someone once told him. 'True love doesn't exist', a cupid once had said to him. When he was a fledgling, looking at a human couple in a state of bliss with their newborn child. 'You just have to smash two people together'. Castiel had came closer to the couple to see them better. 'And they'll grow to love each other. Humanity keeps growing. We just have to urge them in a direction. Or it may all go spiralling out of control'. Castiel had not pushed them in the right direction. He had not pushed hard enough. He failed at the most basic of angelic duty. But he and this other ex-angel. Was this the smashing of two people? A sign that he should at least befriend her. Show her some ways of humanity? As if they were the last of their race and they wanted it to survive. Pitiful.

The gun felt heavier in Castiel's hands, as if always did when he began to think of self-hate. How easy it must be to be human when trying to kill yourself. One push on the trigger and it all goes blank. Castiel raises his hand, wondering why he didn't do this before. He would die eventually. It was only his attitude of still thinking he was better than them, still an angel, that kept him from doing it. He wanted no more to do with it.

He lifts the gun silently, no other hunters noticing him. He points it as his chest, wondering where to shoot. Did it matter? His thoughts are cut off by a hand taking his. It pulls his hand down, at his side, and holds on tight. Castiel knows who it is without having to look. He can feel the soft hands which would belong to nobody at their camp. Even Dean's hands were now full of blisters and worn out flesh.

He doesn't hold it back, but it doesn't go away. It's a touch of care, affection, worry. It's not as he would first assume her holding him like a little child. She's holding him as an equal, perhaps a bit more as she takes the gun from his hand. Once it's gone she holds his hand properly. He curls his dirt covered fingers around her hand a bit. To keep her from slipping away as they step over rubble. Angels never touched each other. No humans had ever shown such affection to him in years. Not since Dean and him had first fallen in some type of unstable lover's affair. Not since the early days of the outbreak, when Dean saw Castiel's body as an escape.

Castiel doesn't know what it means. He's not sure she knows either. But they are both a bit closer to how interconnected they had once been as siblings. As angels.

Castiel knows physical touches doesn't match how angels stay connected though. Trying to remember how'd he feel in another's presence feels intimate now. Any human would have probably felt pain and pleasure all at once to feel an angel's soul bask on their own. When fledglings played together, and a few touches were shared, it was like their grace melted and merged. They became one. When an archangel would touch an angel they would almost immediately fall, somehow in a state which passed the bliss of sex and high of drugs all at once. Like they were the same but also so worshipful of the other.

The only feelings which remain of those touches in Castiel's mind could not compare to any orgasm or any gushing wound. It was unique. Castiel knows even if he made love to this female, his body pressing against hers, breathing the same air, even thinking the same thing, there would be no connection. It was a raw loneliness which would instead fill him with the pleasure of such an event.

He knows he can not relate to her as an angel, so he tries a human approach. His voice softer, raspier than what it used to be.

"What's your name?" His voice is low, not wanting to be heard among others. Name's don't matter to them. But he feels maybe this will step them closer to a connection.

The female opens her mouth, then pauses, almost chocking on her own name. Castiel knows why. It hit him in the same way. Realizing his name, with the 'EL' meaning 'like God', no longer is suitable. He only ever introduced himself as 'Cas' these past few years. An almost harsh syllable in his opinion, no longer having the softer, more delectable flow of the last part of his original, true name.

"Just tell me the first syllable. The first part." Castiel murmurs and wonders why he is trying to comfort her. Why does he show her any sympathy? He doesn't want to. He'd rather push her away, never having to see what he should still be like. Pure. She somehow radiates that, no matter what she does. He remembers when Dean fucked him senseless one night, screaming at Castiel that he was still pure. A slut. How those could be one left doubt in Castiel's mind. But perhaps now he saw what that 'purity' could mean to humans. But Castiel was sure he himself had none.

"Rem." Her voice is soft, almost spoken in a whisper. It tastes so foreign to her, speech and her name no longer spoken as an Angel could. To speak it without being able to hear the soul inside of it makes it a hollow tittle.

"Angel of Hope," Castiel is surprised he remembers that, the rest of her duties are lost in his mind. He feels her fingers flinch slightly, as if he had scorned her. Perhaps she had. She had failed and he was bringing that out.

"Cassiel, Angel of Temperance." He is in need of no reminder to what he was an angel of, changing a single letter in the English alphabet was not his way of escape. But it causes a bit of reflection. A dry laugh passes his lips at the 'temperance', unable to hold it down. He had clearly failed that part of his duties. Perhaps it is merely a sign that he is no longer an angel. No longer Castiel nor Cassiel, nor any other translation of his name in human knowledge. Simply 'Cas'. Simply because he needs a name. A form of address. He is no longer an angel, now a pathetic human. He does needs another, angel or not, to speak of it. But he knows that is what he had done to Remiel.

Rem leaves his hand to fight a new wave of infected beings. Castiel puts his hand in his pocket, holding it closed in a fist. He already misses the feeling of another's touch. It had always been pleasure for him, pain from Dean, it had been too long that Sam or Dean touched him affectionately. Grabbed or tapped his shoulder as a job well done. A human poking him to gain his attention as he walked in his vessel. But nobody did that anymore. A broken race indeed.

He looked sideways, wondering if Dean saw them hold hands and speak. Dean raises his gun, eyes set in hostility. Castiel looks back at Rem, wondering which one she cannot reach at which Dean will shoot down. But no more infected stand. It's only Rem, bloody knife in hand, dark lines showing lack of sleep seem black against her pale skin, eyes seem pink from that same insomnia. She's panting slightly, trying not to show it, but she's bowing her head and shoulders slightly. A fetal pose of an angel, where wings would still swoop strong and arch to balance any weakness off with strength. With no wings, it's simply a pose of tiredness, some defeat.

Dean cocks his gun, a small sound as it enters Cstiel's ears, but echoes like Raphael's thunder as it fills his mind. It's loud, defying, full of a horrible future. Castiel realizes it and wishes he was an angel once more. Because he knows if he was an angel this would work, as a human, it will not.

He's not sure Rem realizes what is happening as he takes a running step towards Dean. He shoves the human to the side, Dean hardly shifting. But just enough. Dean spins towards Castiel from the force, finger already pulling on the trigger. Castiel's hand slips from the gun's top to the front hole. All he realizes is that pain crashes through his hand and he feels the wet spray of blood on his forearm.

He yelps, such a disdaining human reaction. He can feel it, almost as he could as an angel, as it shot through the front and back of his hand. The flesh is ripped, the smaller bones to his finger crack and shatter. Right through the knuckle of his forefinger on his right hand. Blood trails down the gun, down Castiel's tanned and dirty skin, down Dean's jaw.

Dean spits out whatever blood touched his mouth, clearly hating Castiel being so close to him. He strides off, pushing away Castiel. The newly made human stumbles backwards, almost hitting the ground before someone catches him. He looks up to see Rem, her head bowed over his shoulder. The blade is around her waist, carefully in a sheath to protect her and its blood from mixing. She lowers one already bent knee, slowly touching the ground. She makes Castiel softly touch the ash covered road, carefully avoiding various blood spills on it. Castiel can see a human corpse, eyes wide yet devoid of life as it stares at him.

He is aware of his hand being taken, and he screams before biting down on his tongue. He tastes blood as he feels it cover the rest of his hand. He feels something being tied tightly above his wrist. Something else wraps around the wound and Castiel looks to find Rem's sweater now ripped at the hem.

He hears Rem shush his cries in Enochian, and he's reminded of Uriel saying the same things to him centuries ago. 'Stop your crying, my little dove. The four, the seven, the one, I, we all have you. Shush my pretty little angel'. It's a child's tune, rhyming in Enochian and speaking a distant truth. The four (Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, Lucifer), the seven (the four plus various other angels depending on religion to show seven archangels instead of four), the one (God), and I (this time Rem). Parents would sing it to their children, and Castiel remembered who started it. Gabriel, full of his trickster like ways, once caused a young child to cry while delivering messages. Gabriel never told anybody why he did it, some assuming it was out of love, others to make the child quiet, but he sung that baby to sleep, translating the song as he sung it. It became a rather special part of a fledgling's young life, especially after Gabriel left. When he had become Loki, it became more of a mourning song. But comfort of his family ran through it. Castiel knew he had forgotten the words while he lost most of his knowledge. If only he could chose what he'd have forgotten. He would have kept that song.

Rem doesn't give him much time to think it over. She finishes wrapping his hand, and she helps him up. She then looks at Dean with a look in her eyes of a warrior. She was definitely under Michael's reign. Not many angels had that look to them. The look of a soldier, being able to recognize leadership, serve them, but also lead others. Their own angel. Castiel just now realizes they had lived opposite sides of heaven. Sister and brother with every difference they could have.

He tries hard to remember more of her. The look in her eyes open up a few closed off doors. Remiel, bearer of instructions from the archangel. An angel in direct contact with the humans like Gabriel. Cassiel was known as the angel who did not interfere with the events which unfolded in the cosmos. Perhaps that was never a lie, but he was no longer an angel. Cassiel was dead. So was Castiel. Only Cas now...

Sennacherib, where she was the angel responsible for the defeat of their armies. A fighter for humans like Michael. Destroying them like Lucifer. She was Castiel's superior, in Heaven. He fell below her by a few reigns. She was above Anna or Uriel, even Zachariah. So why was she here? He would not get his answers now.

"I may not have been born human, or created to follow any human orders. But I, Dean Winchester, am what your people would call a soldier. Having a weapon pointed at me is not wise on your part. I can be of use."

Castiel could hear the blandness of her voice, now strengthened by survival. As if she knew if she didn't be of use, Dean would shoot at her. And this time he would hit her.

"You're good at what you do. Too good."

"You think I'm a demon?"

"They can put up good tricks." Dean's voice was gruff around the edges as he holds the gun. At both Rem and Castiel.

Rem lowers her gaze for a moment then glanced at Castiel. Making sure her brother was fine, she steps in Dean's clear view. Dean moves the gun away from Castiel, making the Castiel's mouth turn dry. He would have been shot. Shot by the one man he still valued as a friend.

"I am- was- an angel. One of Michael's top commanders. I really can be of use against Lucifer."

"Fallen angels tend to side with him."

Dean was rather close to Rem, and also close to Castiel. Even with a human vessel, Rem managed to unsheathe the blade at her hips with a small ring of metal of metal. In a move which Castiel found difficulty following, it was at Dean's throat. The other hunters now pointed their weapons at her.

"I am not one for mutiny. I have served the same being for two millennia. And yet I fear, if I cut your skin, and this blood, containing this virus you are fighting, touches yours, you will be shot. I know I have a good chance against Lucifer. All you merely have is a gun which can only harm him. I have served with the one being who could stop him for all of my life. I have picked up some vital tricks. I, unlike Cas, can fight. You shoot me, I cut you and you will join me in death. And that stands any second, any day, for however long your race may live. I have not spent two thousand human years fighting and training to be struck down by some human."

Castiel knew this was the tone she probably used for disobeying fledglings. It was poetic, slipping off her tongue like a rich honey. It was also full of poison, but hollow. Angels hardly used words to convey their feelings. They could simply walk and all which could be said was told by their grace. To even have to use a language to tell information, was a problem for her. An old skill, where everybody did speak in such slips of the tongue.

Dean found himself cornered, the blade mere millimetres from his dirt caked and sun darkened skin. He could see the use he could have for her, but he also knew the threat she had. She very well could be working for Lucifer.

"How do I know you're not working for Lucifer?"

"Ask himself when I send you to hell. I am sure he will be rather pleased to have his turn torturing you."

"Not convincing."

"My blade. Your neck. Infected blood."

"Working for Lucifer. Demon."

"If you were not an 'friend' of Castiel's, I would have killed you the moment you pointed a gun in my direction. Castiel and I do not require your help for anything!"

"Castiel?" Dean scoffed the name, the friendship between the two long over. Castiel nervously brought his non-wounded hand to his mouth, stopping any words from escaping. Castiel wanted to tell Rem they weren't yet allies. Castiel wasn't what he once was. He had the feeling Rem still saw him in his former glory. Somewhere, deep inside.

"Cas is a drug addict who only cares about sex and getting as high as fuck. He can't even shoot. He's not useful for anything."

"You two were comrades. He's saved your life countless times. You and your brother's."

The mention of Sam made Dean's eyes turn sad for a moment before they regained their previous hollow and cruel look. Unbreakable and tough. Yet Rem saw the sliver of light from a second's crack in that facade.

"Castiel is my brother. I don't care what happened to him. I know we can work things out. We're also Lucifer's family. No matter what happened between us and him, we're family. From what I watched of this Earth from Heaven, you and Sam were the only ones who could each other's actions and plans. We didn't interfere. I didn't stop my little brother from dying three times over for you! I watched him abandon family for you! I watched my elder brothers plan kill themselves. I watched Gabriel die to help you and your brother. My family was ripped apart, and I won't lie. We all were killing each other. For a stupid chance. A stupid belief you could help us. One of my brothers showed you this future. And you refused to say yes. Humans could have had a chance! But you doomed the entirety of humanity. I sincerely hope Lucifer kills you-"

Dean pulled the trigger once more, but there was no bullet. He was out of them. Rem gave a small smirk before feeling someone put a hand on hers. A light touch, not meant to even try to hold her back. Just to say that he was there.

Rem looked at Castiel who's eyes were underlined with salty tears. The ex-angel wiped the tears away with the back of his ill-fitting shirt, watching Rem. His eyes were sullen, begging even. Rem didn't know what for. Who's side he was on. When Castiel glanced at the blade, Rem lowered it. She sheathed it then felt Castiel bring her into his arms. He smelled like a mix of drugs and sex, yet his grip was firm. He then looked at Dean.

"Please don't kill her." Rem didn't take her hand off of the blade though. For Castiel to clearly put himself in the firing range only to beg, it wasn't needed.

"I'll die alone, Cassiel."

"No. What use do I have anymore?"

"I'm the eldest! The higher ranking one-"

"Do you think that matters? Look at your vessel. Not even an adult. You- we- have no power here anymore. We're just their equals. You will die, Remiel. Then what hope will I have?"

Remiel's body sagged slightly at the word of 'hope'. A word which meant the entirety of her being. And now she felt completely lost of it. Both ex-angels looked at Dean who sneered then filled his guns with more bullets.

"I hear either of their names again from either of your lips, both of you are dead. We will kill Lucifer. I don't care about your family or not. You want to go running to Lucifer and call him your big bro, you go through me first!"

Dean raised the but end of his gun and Castiel tipped Rem away. He was smashed by the weapon right at his left side of the jaw. The force bloomed into a spark of pain which travelled up to his forehead. Castiel fell to his knees, landing at them and scraping his knees under the already ripped denim. Rem was still cradled in his arms but fell a lot more gracefully. She touched her forehead to the ground in an act of surrendering. She felt so... hopeless... A slave to humans, unable to do anything. She should have left with the other angels, she should have. She was so stupid not to. To think she could help this race. To help Castiel.

The older ex-angel (at least by vessel standards), pressed his forehead onto her back, arms falling down to her waist. He knew what she was thinking. He not worth being called her brother. She was treating him like a younger sibling ever since she stood up to Dean. Castiel never imagined any angel could hold the same compassion for siblings Sam and Dean used to hold for each other.

Rem didn't cry like Castiel, she didn't curse like a human. But Castiel's grip from his unwounded hand on hers almost crushed the vessel's young bones. He didn't let her unsheathe that blade, didn't let her stab the vessel's- or now her own- beating heart. He held her underneath his body, trying to protect her as much as he could. He knew it was pointless against a gun. But he wouldn't let Rem- angel of hope- show anybody how hopeless she had become. Even if it was for Castiel's own shallow comfort.

**and yes, I was too lazy to proofread this or get past or present tenses in order.**


	2. Chapter 2

AAU 2

A/N: most of this story was already written, and chapter length is just where it 'changes scenes'...

~XxX~

Rem was silent as she sat on the floor next to Castiel's bed. She cleaned off the blade she carried, and Castiel finally got a good look at it. An archangel blade, covered in Enochian. Castiel laid on his stomach, head over her shoulder to look at it. He didn't have any smoke or drink or drug on him. He was simply watching.

"What does it say on the hilt? You're not letting me see it."

"You do not have to see it, Cassiel. You should rest."

"Stop acting like my big sister. Now show me."

Rem bowed her head as she removed the cleaning clothe from the hilt. Scrawled in perfect Enochian, was one line. 'Their last hope'. Castiel glanced back at the blade, reading the Enochian on it. He flipped it around, eyes widening as he tried to draw connection in his slower human mind. A sudden feeling exploded in his stomach, and he gripped the bed underneath him, not wanting to have false hope just yet.

"Can it...?" Castiel's voice was quiet, whispered as if Lucifer himself could hear and steal the blade. Rem answered back just as softly.

"Kill Lucifer? I don't know. Michael gave it to me. I was the only angel he left on Earth. He called everybody else who wanted to stay a betrayer. He struck fear in all of us. We were leaving what God had told us to love. It was his last message to us. And we nurtured this planet, the human race as our own. But you already know that..." Rem fell quiet, words falling from a whisper to not being heard at all. She started again after a few moments of reflection.

"Michael said I was the one thing which could keep humanity alive. He gave this to me as a parting gift. I don't know if it was to sincerely kill Lucifer or to give us one more hope. It could be either. I don't want to risk the humans here that false hope. They already fell hard enough from the angels leaving. Michael used to be their last hope. Now it's this blade. Or perhaps me. I do not know. But Michael let me fall much differently then Lucifer. You should have seen him, Castiel. He placed me on Earth, and gave me this blade. He pulled my grace away slowly, numbing the pain so I wouldn't fell the pain as the angels left and the connection was cut. But I still felt it, Cassiel. I felt it so vividly... He told me never to lose hope. Never to lose faith. He even helped me chose a vessel. And now, he's gone."

Tears fell from Rem's eyes but she tried to hold them back. It didn't work. She felt Castiel wrap his arms around her, sliding down to join her on the floor. The entire time Rem simply tried to make the tears stop.

"I've been around humans for awhile. The emotions are still confusing. But, did you love him?"

Rem looked at Castiel with disbelieving eyes, the coloured orbs so much brighter from the crying. An angel's bond was intimate, that much was true. Like what humans considered friends and family. But, there could also be something more. How did Castiel understand that?

"You don't even have a mate, Cassiel. How did-?"

"Dean used to be mine..." Castiel supposed that was true. Past the pain and bruises, they had been. And still are. "And still is. So tell me, were you Michael's mate?"

Rem gave a very small nod, wrapping her arms over Castiel's so they would be closer together. At least physically. Castiel knew it hurt, he could feel her tears wet his neck where she rested her head. He could feel her hands shake, her body shuddering against his.

"For how long?"

"A millennia."

Any other day Castiel wouldn't have believed Michael was capable of such feelings, but he had discovered the pleasure possible with someone. And mates did not always mean they loved each other. It signified a closer bond then perhaps what one could conceal. She had been one of his direct subordinates, given a gift which could hold all of humanity's hope inside of it. She could have been his favourite. Or his lover. Even his wife. Castiel didn't press for details.

He simply held her close, and ran his fingers down the blade. Down an item which seemed almost sacred to him. He could feel it. A presence on it. A shred of angelic connectivity. What remained the question now, was if it was a blade of hope or hope for survival.

A/N: yay, they have hope. Oh this is going to be manipulated as best as I can. There's so many elements I want to throw into this story, it's causing them all to lessen in severity.


	3. Chapter 3

AAU 3

~XxX~

Rem woke up to be one the bed, the blade in it's proper place on her hip. It was the first thing she checked for every time she woke up. When nausea would enter her body on the mere thought it had vanished.

The room was empty besides her, and she slowly got out of bed. She found her shoes on the ground and slipped them on. Glancing a clock she saw it was nine in the morning. If Castiel was not in bed sleeping, he'd most likely be smoking something or another in the room. Even the air seemed clearer of the various plants or mushrooms which Castiel would smoke or eat.

She walked out of the cabin, hand on the blade. It was habit, she assumed. But it also felt like she was closer to Michael. Closer to heaven. Even though they may as well no longer exist at this point. It was the first time she left the cabin since yesterday's outing. Even when it was filled with Castiel's smoke, she'd sit silently in the corner. She supposed it was worry for Castiel which caused her to leave the cabin.

If she was an angel, she'd have known where he'd be. Almost as if she was there herself. Without that ability, she had to look around. People gave her strange looks as she called Cas 'Castiel' or even 'Cassiel'. She decided when talking to other beside Castiel and Dean, she'd refer to him as Cas. Cassiel when speaking to Castiel. And Castiel when speaking to Dean. It seemed proper that way. The way which she had started on yesterday's outing.

She was eventually directed to the cabin of someone named Bobby. She knocked on the door and was told to come in. She slowly opened the door to find a man with a shotgun on his lap, sitting in a wheelchair.

"Have you see Casti- Cas?" The man looked up and then glanced Rem over.

"You his friend?"

"Comrade."

"We're all comrades here, girl." Rem nodded, understanding that angle of things. Though it looked like perhaps this man knew something of what Castiel used to be. Why else would he be so hostile towards giving her his location?

"Ever since two millennia ago."

"So you're who Dean was talking about. Cas's sister. The one who was gonna cut Dean down."

"To be fair, he was going to shoot me in the head."

The man made a motion for Rem to come in and she did so, kneeling on the ground. The man looked down at her then sighed.

"Dean's the leader here. Whatever he does, he all have to suck it up and go with it. Wish he was less trigger-happy though. And that he actually went back to listening to me... Angels haven't brought any good news to us recently though. Only bad luck." Rem gave another nod, though not truly understanding the hostility towards her, she understood why it existed.

"Lucifer was going to destroy this world. Everyone knew that. He only had one option. Michael. We sent angels down to talk it over with Dean. We almost killed both in the process, deciding both dead may be the best for awhile. We sent Dean to the future. This future, in hope he'd change his mind. It didn't. Castiel wasn't the only angel who was willing to fight Lucifer head on. But he was the only one Michael would let die. Unless Dean said yes, he knew it would never work. No matter how many angels fell to help the human race. He was trying to keep his family safe. And he was willing to sacrifice himself to stop the threats to humanity. He only needed a chance. Dean refused to give him that chance... I would have given my grace to make Dean live again after that fight. One of my duties was to watch over resurrected people. It had been done before. I would have done it... We are the reason your race has crumbled. But we tried so hard to keep it from that. Everything rested on one stubborn creation of our father. The only thing keeping us from torturing Dean into saying yes was humanity. If humans have no more hope, why would they allow a chance of survival? You tell me what we could have done."

Bobby didn't speak for awhile, never hearing the full side of the angel's story but instead assuming most of it.

"That's a hefty question. I guess not even Lucifer's family could keep him from misbehaving. But if ya shared the info with us, could have gotten a few ideas."

"We are capable of coming up with every alternate future. It was the only solution."

"We humans come up with a few creative ideas every once in awhile. If we survive this, you remember that."

"You speak of survival so lightly,"

"Like you said. We all need hope."

"I did say that, didn't I?"

"Yup... Castiel's by the river."

Rem gave a slow nod and promised to herself to remember that. If she ever met Michael, she'd tell him that. That would be the first thing to leave her lips. 'Tell the humans everything next time. Never lie to them. And let them decide with us. They can come up with some creative solutions. We owe it to father to let his other creations decide their own fate'.

"Thank you, for listening to our side. No other human has."

"No angel's really ever been as blunt as you about it all. I guess we're just the two wise ones here. Just a few years too late."

Rem gave a quick bow from respect, it seemingly being the only form of human gratitude deemed worthy enough. To her, he seemed like the wisest person in the camp. And perhaps he was. But it didn't matter. He had told her perhaps the one thing she ever needed to here from humanity. 'They still have hope'.

Rem ran to the river as fast as she could, wishing she had wings once more. Wishing she could be there in a heartbeat of this vessel. The strain on her chest caused her to slow down, testing this pain out. It felt horrible, discomfort rising to her throat. She shook it away though and began a much slower pace to the river.

As she did that, she let her thoughts wander. It was annoying, painful, and maddening all at once. To not have thoughts focused, able to retrieve whatever data needed and see it through. Not having all your mind's answers in a second of time. Like taking years of thoughts and the one answer so clear as light in that second. Now, it felt demeaning. The river proved to be one of those points. Why place a camp near a river? What if it was infected? Then everybody would die. But if it was not there, how would people get water? Such decisions were what Michael would tell her. Sometimes she'd come up with the answer herself. But when they both seemed equal, no matter how trivial, she went to him. Sometimes she wondered if he just chose them by luck. But he'd always tell her the same thing. 'Have faith. We will reach a future with both pleasing and displeasing traits. It does not matter which future it is. Is your hope that different from my faith?' She'd think it over and say yes. He'd then kiss her, and it felt like the cosmos opened up to him. Physically touching such a powerful grace. He'd then very silently murmur into her ear after her body was numb and awake all at once. 'Have faith in me, and hope will always fill you'. Both were about believing without fully knowing what would happen. Rem couldn't count the amount of hours they spent talking about those two words, showing them to people. When after a human incident, when the humans hoped for something better and used faith to follow it, it sent Rem in a spiral of delight. Michael always there during it. He didn't have to say anything. He just had to be there. And that was enough for her. It was more than enough for her.

And now, he was gone.

Rem physically shook her head, not wanting such thoughts. She thought about Castiel instead, though the hollow feeling staid in her chest. Would she eventually fall to his level? How could she not? He simply accepted what was happening and adapting. At least he was surviving. She was so sure like many warriors before her, she'd end her life. If her blade, her last hope, and their last hope, did not work, it would pierce her heart. She had decided on it. So until then, she had to give it everything she had. She was infused with hope, just as she was as a fledgling. Perhaps she had never been the most positive human, as angels weren't positive or negative. Perhaps she wasn't the most energetic towards the future. But she carried a burden. She carried hope. And she wouldn't let it die out just yet.

The waters lapped onto the rocky edges, and Rem followed the edge closely, making sure not to touch the water. She didn't like the feeling of getting wet. The sleep had helped her, and she felt a new sense of balance from it. She wondered how often humans slept. She'd have to do it more often. Perhaps as much as Castiel did. Though Castiel still claimed himself to have what humans called insomnia.

She saw a form sitting by the edge and she picked up her pace. She saw Castiel by the river, siting and looking calm. She decided he was already stoned. Castiel looked up at her when he saw her, pupils normal and carrying no signs of doing any drugs in recent hours.

"Cassiel, are you...?"

"High? No. This is the most 'temperance' I've felt in a long time. We should tell Dean. That we have a way to kill Lucifer."

Human, it was the first thought that coursed through Remiel's mind as she stepped backwards.

"Castiel, I said it could. If it does nothing, they'll be in even worse shape." These words were the basis for Rem's future actions, and she wondered why Castiel could not understand them. What had blinded him?

"We have one last chance," Castiel stood up, with calm and slightly fluid movements. The after signs that he had been on drugs for much too long.

"We? Or they?" Rem glanced over Castiel's form to see that the man had gone on a rather defensive pose. His hand was now covered in new bandages, obviously done by someone who was trained in such things.

"Both of us. We're human, remember? Dean is the only one who can-" Rem wanted to smack Castiel. Why would he always mention this one human's name? She understood Dean was the leader of this camp, but even as a warrior herself, Rem never even mentioned her own leader, Michael, this much.

"No. He was Michael's best vessel. That's it. He's not special or important. He's not the only one who can kill Lucifer. Lucifer will kill him the moment they meet. Lucifer may spare us. He'll at least give us a chance. I'm Michael's number one. You're the only reason Dean survived the last few years. Cassiel, you and me. Nobody else. And we'll do it. We will attempt to kill Lucifer with the Last Hope. We're not telling anybody else." Force rang through Rem's voice as she reached out and grabbed the collar to his shirt. He had to see. He had to understand. The man glanced down at the hand from the physically smaller being then spoke his mind again.

"We should tell Dean-"

"I think you just want to impress him. Or perhaps you have fallen dependent on him." Hate raced through each word, and Castiel could feel her anger. Anger that he was no longer what he once was. Castiel licked his dry lips then spoke in a calmer tone. With the knowledge he was so sure about.

"Dean was correct. I'm nothing but a drug and sex addict-"

"Don't say that."

"Rem, it's true. We've both fallen, but perhaps you managed to land without your wings. I just crash landed into the ground and couldn't get up again."

Castiel pulled the hand away, wanting to have a smoke again. To stop these thoughts from hurting his chest and mind alike. He was useless. He wanted to let her bring the sword to Dean. Perhaps together, those two had a chance. He was not supposed to be part of it. He was truly, useless...

"You're the only person who has a hope of understanding what my intentions are. I need you-"

"You need someone who can fight. Anybody but me."

Castiel turned around, pulling a few leaves out his pocket. He began rolling them together before feeling them snatched from his hand.

"If I had pyrokinesis still, I'd burn these,"

"Don't touch those."

"Or what? Or better yet, why not? What can pathetic plants bring to you? Tell me yourself, Cassiel. Tell me what you require of this Earth to keep living."

Rem held the leaves over the rushing water, and Castiel felt his hand shake as he reached out for them. He was nervous. It was so hard to find drugs, he'd have to raid pharmacies when they went to check for survivors of the Croatoan infected cities. And then, he'd be stuck mostly on alcohol and various pills. Not many had the effect he was truly looking for.

Rem opened her hand and a few leaves fell to the water's surface. They quickly lapped underneath the water then pushed far away by the current.

"Tell me, Cassiel. Or I will find and destroy your entire stash."

"Th-"

A few more leaves became lost, she only had about four left. Hardly any for a decent shot.

"They make the pain stop. The thoughts stop. We spend all day thinking about it but come to no solution."

Another leave was dropped. Rem wanted a better explanation. What was truly the reason.

"It feels like I'm an angel again. When we're an angel, he hardly have a physical entity. It makes the same feeling."

Another leaf falls. Two left. It was simply pathetic how he was still fighting for them.

"To be human, it's so, demeaning. There's no words for it! You know that. We were everything, now we're simply one small, insignificant thing. It brings back the feeling of familiarity which has the feeling of control."

Rem glances closer at the leaves, studying them.

"I've seen this used in worship. I've never liked the effects. They say it brings them closer to God. It never does. On our first years of working under Michael, he took us to so many places on Earth. Many were places of worship to our father. They did various, narcotics. There was no change. I could feel nothing. They were no closer to us, and certainly not to our father. Perhaps humans simply cling to false beliefs. To help them soothe their minds and worries..."

Rem held the two leaves back out to Castiel who took them quickly, in case she changed her mind. She left without a good-bye, a human formality. Once an angel was done with what they came to say, they left. Simple as that.

Castiel dug a lighter up from his pocket, lightning the leaves without anything to hold them. The fire burnt the ends of his fingers, and Castiel inhaled the smoke. It tumbled gently down his lungs, already starting its effect. With a few more breaths, until the leaves were just black ash, Castiel tried to think of nothing. But when he came to his cabin later, he ignored Rem who was on the ground as usual. He went straight to a drawer, shuffling through various plastic bottles. He then paused, slamming it shut with such force that it shook the makeshift walls of the cabin.

He spun on his heels and then glared at Rem. She looked up at him with dull eyes, not the least bit intimidated. She still did not develop the inner knowledge that even though humans were weaker then angels, she know had a weaker body to counter balance that.

"Where are they?"

"They?"

"The pills, the acids, the leaves, the alcohol-"

"I left the alcohol."

"You know what I mean." Castiel came very close to Rem, neither uncomfortable with the close proximity. It meant nothing to either of them. Castiel's eyes seemed to have a solid facade before them, firm and unmoving. Rem didn't budge physically or where she stood on the argument.

"You will not get them back until we have a decent conversation-"

"Fuck you,"

With that Castiel stormed out of the cabin and slammed the door shut. Rem was at his heels in a matter of seconds.

"Location will not change the fact we need to speak. About Lucifer-"

"I can't help you with that. Ask Dean about it."

"Oh yes, the human who was going to shoot me for being a good fighter." Rem reached out for Castiel's hand and then poked it over the bandages. Castiel didn't even flinch.

"You're already on some rather strong drugs to create that numbness. Morphine? Opium?"

"Morphine is opium."

"At least you're educated in it. Now tell me, how educated are you in killing someone?"

Castiel stopped to send a look at Rem. He usually understood her motives underlying her questions, but this time, he didn't understand what she was implying.

Rem held out a gun to Castiel who picked it up. He knew how to use it. He had been for the last year while they shot down what they called the Croats.

"I can shoot a gun. I'm useless in hand to hand combat."

"We were all trained how to fight, Castiel. Perhaps with wings and different forms of kinesis, but you can do it. I'll help you remember. I'll teach you-"

So that was her aim. To make him ready for her little plot against Lucifer. He took the gun and fired at her feet. She didn't jump, the bullet landing an inch in front of her shoes.

"You missed me."

"Doesn't matter. Humans call that a warning shot."

"You mean we."

"Huh?"

"We call that a warning shot. You think as if you're an angel when you're not watching yourself."

"So I'm a narcissist. Doesn't fucking matter."

Castiel ran a hand through his hair just to do something then went to a larger cabin. A man was sitting before it with some a pen, going over a checklist.

"I need something. Anything. Now."

The man looked up at Castiel then thought for a moment.

"I have Valium."

"No. Not that. I just need my mind to mellow out."

Rem sighed and watched the man let Castiel in. She staid outside, slipping the gun out of Castiel's pocket. She then looked at the man with the checklist.

"Ignore this guy. He's an addict."

"You a friend of Cas?"

"Why does everybody ask me that?"

The man shrugged slightly before explaining.

"You're the only one who's staid in his cabin for that long. And the only one who tags along with him on those reckon missions."

"... You all need a distraction... Anyways, go back to your checklist."

"The name's Chuck, by the way."

"Remi- Just call me Rem."

"Like the band."

"Yeah, sure."

Rem leaned back against the building, turning Castiel's gun over in her hands. She had first taken it from his room. She didn't understand why humans created such a weapon. It was a coward's way to kill somebody, but also deathly effective. She was already partially favoured towards a gun rather then the knives and blades she had been fighting with for the past two thousand years.

"What are you doing with Cas's gun?" The voice was familiar and Rem looked up at Dean. She then stood her ground more firmly.

"None of your business."

"It kind of is. One day ago you were calling Lucifer your big bro. Now you're hauling Cas's weaponry around. Explain."

"Isn't Lucifer now also your brother? Sam, right? Said yes while you didn't-?"

Rem knew she was hitting a tender subject, and when Dean's fist came towards her, she slipped out of the way. Without her back to the wall anymore she motioned for Dean to come closer at her.

"Come on then. Want to fight, let's do it."

Dean was a much larger person then Rem, but Rem had centuries of experience on her side. But a lack of most of her usual abilities. She couldn't exactly judge who would win at the moment.

Dean swung a downwards angled jab at her stomach, but Rem stepped quickly out of the way. She then stepped forward. She dodged the next punch and smashed her own fist against Dean's nose. She could feel it smash underneath her hand and she gave a pleased smile. She kicked off the ground and took a low leap backwards, watching Dean go for the gun. She gave a high kick which broke Dean's grip on the weapon, then landed another one against his jaw. She felt it a give some but Dean went with the flow on it, making sure the damage wouldn't be too great.

At this time a little crowd had formed, Castiel stepping out of the cabin with a few bottles in hand. He almost dropped them all when he saw Rem take her first hit by Dean.

She was winded and stumbled onto the ground, hitting it hard. She could feel a bruise form on her upper stomach, the pain flashing through her body. It wouldn't stop her now though. She jumped to her feet then pulled out her sword with a grin Gabriel would have been proud of.

Dean pulled out his gun and looked almost bored as he placed his finger on the trigger. Somewhere though, between that moment and firing it, Rem was no longer there. And Dean felt something poke his chest.

"Like I said before. I'm not one for mutiny."

Rem walked away like it was nothing, sheathing the sword. She heard another shot be fired and it passed just over her head. She didn't bother looking as she gave what human called an insult. Her middle finger up and a smirk on her lips.

"Thank you for that fight, oh great destroyer of mankind. Ask Lucifer for a job position when you die. I'm sure he'll make you his number one. From what I've heard, you already tortured people on your first visit there."

Dean ran towards Rem and punched her in the back of her head. Rem turned around as she fell, pulling Cas's gun out and holding it pointed at Dean's head. Rem once more proved to have the potential to kill Dean.

"Both of ya! Stop it! We're gonna sit down and talk about this. Like human beings."

Both Rem and Dean glanced at Bobby before glancing back at each other. Rem eventually lowered the gun.


	4. Chapter 4

~XxX~

"Try this,"

Castiel offered a few pills at Rem who shook her head.

"They're just painkillers."

"Doesn't matter. It's a human escape."

"But you can't heal yourself."

"Then I'll live with the pain. Stop worrying for me."

Rem turned away from Castiel who picked up Rem's glass of whiskey and used it to help swallow the pills himself. Once he put it down, Rem pushed it down the table to Castiel.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Rem shrugged, not clearly remembering.

"A week or two ago."

"You'll die without food." Castiel became even more persistent, and Rem ignored her younger brother's attempts. She didn't need him concerned for her.

Castiel didn't know why he kept trying to help Rem. Perhaps it was from seeing her and Dean together, fighting, and unable to do anything. Regardless, he somehow felt it was his job to make sure she understood how to be a human. Like how Dean and Sam spent months if not years teaching Castiel. Rem had nobody. Perhaps Castiel wasn't the best example of a human at this point, but who was lately? Everyone had changed with the ending of the world.

Bobby glanced at the two ex-angels, remembering silently how Dean and Sam used to act like that. Bobby tried not to think of it, but couldn't help to let his mind slip to such thoughts. But it was pointless. Sam was gone. Dean was no longer the kid he'd help teach hunt. Dean hardly cared for emotions anymore, his one true drive.

The moment Dean walked out of the bathroom, nose red and a deep bruise on his jaw, Rem ushered only one line in Enochian. A rough translation of 'shut up'. Castiel fell quiet, hiding the pills in his pocket. Perhaps it was past pride, but Castiel was very well aware that Dean was the one who knew most about his need for the drugs. To have his mind numbed.

"Alright then, I've brought both your sorry asses here to start talking to each other. Dean's the leader here, and Rem obviously knows a few tricks. And Castiel seems to be only thing you two have in common."

Rem glanced back at Castiel before speaking again in Enochian.

'Who are you more loyal to?' Castiel didn't answer, taking another gulp of the cup of whiskey.

"I don't understand Enochian anymore since I fell." Both Bobby and Castiel knew that was a lie. Castiel had helped Bobby create sigils around their camp as protections from demons. But Castiel hated the way Dean stared at him. With such a raw hostility towards anything angelic. Besides, perhaps it would help Rem understand he was no longer an angel.

Rem spoke once more in Enochian, testing Castiel's words.

'I once made love to both Lucifer and Michael.'

Castiel choked on the whiskey, sputtering it across his hands and the table. Rem cast him a look which told him she caught him before looking back at Bobby.

"What needs to be discussed?" Castiel tried to collect himself, trying to guess if she was honest or not.

"Let's start with the most important and work our way down. How to stop Lucifer."

"We shoot him with the colt."

Rem looked at Dean then at his empty hands.

"But you do not posses it."

"Have a better plan?" Dean hissed the words and was rather surprised when Rem placed her sword on the table.

"Parting gift from Michael. He called it 'their last hope'. I didn't want to bring it up. But since we're all actually talking, there it is. There is the possibility it can kill Lucifer."

Bobby nodded, taking the blade off the table. He unsheathed it and glanced over the Enochian. The blade itself was created with perfection, larger then an archangel blade yet created from the same material. It was infused with something else though, almost as Bobby could feel it. He simply couldn't put his finger on the supernatural aspect of it.

Dean sneered at it, taking it from Bobby then too casually tossing it and catching it.

"And Michael just decided to give you the magical key to humanity?"

"Like I said, it may not work. I'm a warrior, he's my superior. I was the angel of hope. It could simply be a clever gift."

"Getting presents from an archangel? What did you do? Kill a couple demons?"

Dean began to get sarcastic and Rem stood up.

"No. I served him for two thousand years. I was his mate. I have stood by his side since very early in my life. You are assuming this blade will actually damage Lucifer."

"We know for certain the colt will. We can't attack him once then hope he's still open enough to get shot at."

"There is no we in the matter. I know Lucifer will speak to me. I'm the only one capable of wielding a blade. I knew him before he fell, and there's a chance he'll let his guard done around me. Do you want to wait for more of your race to fall?"

Dean said nothing, crossing his arms. Bobby gave a silent hand motion and Rem sat back down. She then glanced at Castiel and murmured more Enochian.

'Your Dean seems to believe it can work. Come with me when I fight Lucifer. Having another will help.'

"Ask someone better than me to help you with that."

"And who do you trust?"

"Dean."

"Do you trust anybody else, Cassiel? Or simply the man who abused you and made you fall this low?"

"You don't know the story."

"Then tell it to me! We are facing the end to all of our lives. What better timing or further motivation do you need?"

Castiel still said nothing and whispered a single word in Enochian.

'Sorry'. Rem let her hands hit the table in defeat, waiting for Castiel's words to hit her. The rough wooden table scraped the palms of her hands and she glanced up at Dean.

"I will find Lucifer and attempt to kill him with this sword. I stand a chance. I'm giving you the choice to come along."

"Fuck that. I'm not helping some angel-" Dean was already on his way to leave, and Bobby watched the hunter for a few moments.

"Dean, listen to her." Castiel's words were hardly heard, but heard by Dean.

Castiel now stood up, hands holding the table to hide how they were shaking. Castiel kept his head bowed, ready to be told to sit down and whatever else which could potentially be spat out at him. Dean said nothing for the longest them, and even Bobby waited for his response.

"You do it alone then."

"Not even if you had the colt-" Remiel tried to argue once more before getting cut off.

"I said you do it alone. And you can get out of my camp to."

"If that is your final say."

Rem stood up and then put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. She then whispered more Enochian into his ear.

'You are the only family I have left. I may be new to being human, but I understand it. I understand my limitations as one. But I also understand how much I need you just to keep myself stable. How much I need you as family. But if you will not come, at least promise me to stop worrying for me. Which shall it be?'

Castiel lowered his head onto the table, his words bitter and full of so many trapped emotions.

"I fell to Earth to give Dean a chance. I cannot regain my family because of that. This is where I stay. Who I stay with."

"Then I hope Lucifer is merciful towards his own family. Just remember, when they all die, perhaps he'll give you a chance."

At such words Dean pulled out his gun again and Castiel spun around. He took Rem's hands in his own, wincing when the pressure increased to his wounded hand. They didn't say anything, and that time it's hollow without any words. Castiel then let go of her hands. With his hands shaking even more then before he pressed his lips to hers. Rem's eyes flash in shock and disbelief, so many emotions before they closed.

When Castiel pulled away Rem took a moment to collect herself again. She then looked at him and didn't say a word. She left without any words. Castiel gave a dry laugh. In the last moments they shared, such a human reveal of love is blown away by an angel's usual habits.

Dean looks at him as if it's the drugs and perhaps it is. Castiel feels like his head is spinning. The only time he had that exact feeling was five years ago when Dean had first kissed him. Now, it makes the last angel of the lord pop a few more pills to make it last. His first priority is to make sure Dean feel jealous. Betrayed somehow.

He leaves to find Rem a few minutes later once he has collected himself. She is at the front gates of the camp. Castiel begins to run to her but she already steps out. He sees her touch her lips for a brief moment before setting off. He then sees another figure, one dressed in white. The same height and build from someone he had once considered a friend five years ago.

He can see Rem and Lucifer talk, and he is now running. No matter how fast he goes, he can't seem to get there yet. He continues to run, finding himself praying for his wings once more. The pills fall from his pocket yet he doesn't care.

"Remiel! Lucifer!"

He shouts at them, and Lucifer actually turns his head. He grins and waits for Castiel to run towards the front gate. Lucifer then wraps an arm around Remiel's shoulders and looks at Castiel.

"Well, being human has changed you, Castiel. It must be hard-"

"I don't want any of your sympathy or even words. I just want Remiel."

"But you just let her go. You gave up family for Dean, right? You have already said that Remiel means nothing to you in comparison to Dean."

Castiel didn't realize when his feet had passed the border line, but they did and he stood outside now. He felt Lucifer's cold hand on his cheek, and he tries to suppress any fear. The drugs help with that. Suddenly the effect of the drugs go away and Castiel is instead replaced with a feeling much better. Like he's connected to everything around him and to himself most or perhaps least of all. He feels like an angel.

Lucifer then removed his hand, leaving Castiel to feel hollow and empty. Castiel began to feel even worse than he did before, and he steps towards Lucifer again. The Devil gives a chuckle, pressing his hand now to Castiel's neck. The feeling returns, Castiel's feeling of normality and perfection. He can feel his wings arch against his back, the feathers brushing against his neck and mess with his hair.

"I can make you feel like this forever, Castiel. To go back to what you should be. I'll let you keep Dean if you wish. As a pet or something of the sorts. You can be the human's new god. Or we can forget this ever happened, that you never stopped being an angel. Whatever you want, little brother."

Castiel couldn't help but shiver at the words. Feeling the soul in them, the grace trail down his body in the laziest of fashions. Castiel fell to his knees, lips pressed tightly against another to stop him saying something rash. His breathing is irregular, trying to get used to his original being.

"They're beautiful, Cassiel,"

Castiel glances up, panting softly, eyes wider than usual. He finds himself back in his usual suit and trench coat, how it floods it him with memories. Memories before Lucifer's rising.

Remiel though runs a hand over his wings, feeling the soft black feathers. Castiel shiver inwardly at the feeling, sensitive and erogenous all at once. Angels don't usually feel pleasure. But he feels like merely being one is giving him bliss in such large doses.

He can feel Remiel's hand go to his shoulder blades, resting there. He can feel Lucifer's cold breath on the top of his head. He can hear his own breathing between the two, Lucifer's wings suddenly there and encompassing both of them. Castiel has never felt so good in years. Better then his dreamless, valium-filled nights. Better then when he made love to others or Dean. Just so much better.

"You've been so troubled,"

Castiel feels a hand cup his chin and lead him to look at Lucifer. Sam's image is mixed with Lucifer's soul, and he sees the beauty in the second. He feels the raw power, and he quivers slightly in that power of the previous archangel. He wasn't used to it.

He could feel it sink into his skin, each atom of his fluctuating for a moment, getting used to it. Castiel audible moans, falling lower to the ground. Lucifer grabs him, makes the angels sit on his lap. Castiel doesn't move, feeling the energy swim inside of him, wash his mind free of worries, fill his body with pleasure. Past what making love could ever feel like.

Castiel closes his eyes, the fact that this was his enemy somehow flees him. That it was Lucifer's fault to begin with. But he doesn't care. He feels like he's already an addict to this feeling, despairing over future withdrawal. He can hear Lucifer whisper Enochian to him, meaningless lines about how he has fallen, how Lucifer once saw him. Castiel ignores them, but they reach his subconscious. And at this moment, he can escape all of that. Escape the pain, drugs, and humanity.

Lucifer eventually sets him down, and Castiel watches him stare at Remiel. Lucifer glances at the blade with a raised eyebrow then kisses Remiel's lips. Castiel sees more than what he can give Remiel in a kiss. He can see her wings shudder, her arms wrapped around the fallen archangel's neck. And Castiel realizes this is what she's used to. Not just being an angel, but having so much power so close to her. Feelings of bliss and then pain in such strong quantities.

He sees her arch towards Lucifer, the devil's lips now on her neck, laying open mouth kisses. Lucifer's eyes are partially closed as if he enjoys it and Castiel feels the need to find out if Lucifer is doing this for real. Or is this all a trick.

"Do you actually want us? Or are you making us feel an urge to join you?"

Lucifer pulls away from Remiel, holding the female angel close. His hands trace over her wings, the double sets in a beautiful moonlight grey. Lucifer's own wings are four sets, all a dazzling white. Lucifer looks at Castiel with eyes which must be acting. They look too young and innocent in that very moment.

"You two have only fallen from Heaven for a few years.

I've spent millennia cut off from it. My time in the cage was virtually spent as a human. I want this as badly as you do. It'd be a shame if I had to destroy you two. The last two angels on Earth. You two have quite the upper hand here.

You can fight against me all you want. But as long as its not you who shoots the colt, Castiel, and you're still alive after Dean's future failures, I'll keep you. Return you to your former glory. Same to you Remiel. You don't let anybody touch Michael's gift to you, and you don't use it against me."

Lucifer pulled away at once, making Remiel look like she'd collapse and Castiel physically doing just that. Lucifer stepped between them and then spoke one more line.

"This will all be over soon, my little angels."

Wether that was to soothe them or threaten them, Castiel didn't know. He just laid outside the camp, panting on the rough ground. Remiel sat down beside him and they processed what had happened. They thought in silence for what appeared to be ages. Castiel glanced down at himself, realizing he was still in what he called his vessel's original clothing. The tan trench coat and suit underneath it. Remiel was in the same clothing but a single picture remained in her hand. She didn't let Castiel see it, and the ink seemed to stain her mind. Michael, Lucifer and her. From a night where they came together under mutual friendship and watched the galaxy become what it was.

Both fallen angels didn't move until they heard someone cock a gun. They didn't know if it was seconds or hours later. But both Castiel and Remiel saw Dean and two other men, two guns pointed at Castiel, Dean's pointed at Remiel.

"If you're done making out with the devil, I'd like to know if you'd rather be buried or cremated after this."

"Doesn't matter. We are all on the same page. When we die, there is nothing but hell. Hell or some sort of sick oblivion. So go ahead, shoot your last chance of survival. Because I can still kill him."

"You know what? I'm sick and tired of your hero attitude."

Dean fired the gun and Rem was stunned quiet for a moment. Castiel saw blood stain her chest and when she breathed out, all that left her mouth was blood. She looked up at Dean and then at Castiel.

"Look, humans don't always miss."

She gave a dry laugh before letting herself fall. She hit the ground, blood flying from her mouth and wound at the impact. Castiel knew the shot hit her lung. Knew she'd die when she drowned on the blood filling her lungs. Castiel gripped her hand, taking the sword from her. Rem managed to stutter out just a few more words.

"Temperance can have hope." Wether she was implying to duties or the sword, Castiel gave a determined nod. He then placed a hand on the side of her cheek.

"I'm so sorry, sister." Rem didn't respond, in a state of shock if not already dead. Castiel felt a tear run down his cheek, and he pulled off the trench coat. He placed it over Rem, keeping her head uncovered in case she was still alive.

"I always had horrible combat skills. Michael sent me to be an angel to simply observe. Like he knew I would cause trouble. The only way to describe it is to say I fell in love with the human race. Somehow, it kept me fighting. For people I have never met. And now, I don't like what it has become."

Castiel unsheathed the blade then stood up. He held it in front of him, surprised by how light it was. Truly a weapon of heaven. Dean sneered at him and Castiel's eyes turned harder for awhile, trying to remember how to properly use such a weapon. It had been too long. His memories were too vague. But he could almost hear the sound of blades clashing around him from practices as a fledgling. And to think they had always thought Michael's classes on such things pointless. He wanted to personally thank the archangel.

Castiel swung the blade with as much force as he could, laying a deep gash on one man's chest. The man faltered and Castiel stabbed him clean through, putting it out of suffering. He then looked at Dean, blood splatter on his face and eyes filled with murderous intent.

"Like I said five years ago. I don't serve man. And I certainly don't serve you. You want to kill me, go right ahead. But I will take you down with me. Neither of us would be here if it wasn't for the other one."

"You angels just love to hear your own voices, don't you?"

Something hit Castiel in the back of the head and his eyes blurred instantly. The pain on his skull seemed far away as his collapsed to the ground. He felt the sword get ripped away from him and someone kicked dirt in his face. His world went black all too soon.


	5. Chapter 5

~XxX~

Castiel woke up to a clear mind, no remains of valium or whatever else he took to stop dreams. He sat up, feeling something uncomfortable pull at his wrists. He saw that he was handcuffed to a bar which had been above his head, originally at shoulder blade height.

"Who did this?"

There were no answer and Castiel tried to stand up to look around better. He was in a dark cabin, and saw Remiel tied to a chair.

"Remiel!"

He forgot she was dead, that she had been shot. He fell to his knees, wondering just what happened after he fell unconscious.

"What?"

Castiel saw Remiel move her head and Castiel just stared. Remiel raised an eyebrow at him before thinking about what had happened.

"It's a dreamless sleep. Just darkness. No time passing. In case you want to know what death's like... Does Death still exist? Or did he give up in the last few years?"

Castiel shrugged, saying a raspy "I don't know", in case she couldn't see him at her angle. Remiel said nothing for a moment then nearly caused herself to fall.

"Where's the sword? Cassiel?"

"I don't seem to be in possession of it."

"Then who has us imprisoned? If it was Lucifer he'd be here to know he was behind it."

Castiel gave a small hum of agreement before looking around the cabin. Then it hit him all at once. The handcuffs, them being in a cabin, the lack of blood on the ground but on the walls. As if it had been infected.

"Did Michael ever teach us anything about sitting through torture."

"Don't let it happen. Simple as that."

Remiel didn't quite understand what Castiel was getting at besides the potential for torture. She heard Castiel moving around, Castiel's wrists becoming bloody from scrapping the rough metal around them.

The door opened and Castiel saw Dean. Remiel saw him to and plainly told him to burn in hell, as one translation. Luckily for her, she said in Enochian as reflex. Having no exact translation for what exactly she said, she looked at Dean and set her eyes firm.

"And to think, if Michael possessed you, your little body would be all mine."

Castiel flinched and closed his eyes when he heard skin on skin. The sound bounced around the empty room and Remiel gave a dry laugh.

"Go right ahead. At least tell me what information you want before we cut me up."

"Nothing. I don't want nor need any information from you."

Dean put a box on a nearby table and pulled out various small knives. Castiel didn't dare make a sound as Dean placed them on the table in a neat row.

"Then what do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. Scream if you want. I'll gag you."

"So this is fun for you? Playing the role Lucifer described humans as? Murderous creatures? Demons are just humans without the good traits and a handful less of emotions. Humans can very well be described as them."

Dean pulled a knife out of a bloody sheath and ran the smooth side down Remiel's bare arm. He then pressed it horizontal half way to her elbow on her left forearm, pressing at the tip the sliding it sideways. It left a gash in its wake and Dean did the same thing about three inches below it. He then cut one vertical slit and Remiel's tried not to think. She simply counted to three. And then did it again. And again. A tactic to maintain against torture.

Dean pulled at the corner of the skin then tore it from the connective tissues. Remiel bit down on her lower lip, not making a single sound. She then gave a hollow laugh.

"Does it somehow make you feel better? Think this makes you feel better for letting all those people die? Is that it? Acting like the one being you'd have killed before? Killing demons when the worst one was right inside of you. Failing your brother-"

Dean pulled the knife away and walked towards Castiel. His footsteps sounded like thunder as both fallen angels held their breath. The knife then cut through Castiel's skin and Remiel let a scream leave her lips.

"Leave him alone! He gave up everything to help you! Don't break him down like that!"

Dean didn't listen, and Castiel looked into Dean's eyes. They didn't tell him anything but had that stubbornness which said the hunter refused to stop. Castiel whimpered when the blade went back into his arm. Eventually Castiel tried to stop the noises, knowing if it wasn't him, it'd be Rem. He was used to Dean hurting him. Rem wasn't.

But when Castiel screamed out after becoming coated in blood, Remiel wished just as hard it had been her instead of Castiel.

~XxX~

It was almost a full two days later which they were let go.

"Don't move."

"Like that's an option."

Remiel placed Castiel on the bed, both stumbling onto it. Remiel then stood up and pulled a bag from a drawer underneath some clothing. She dumped it on the bed, a multitude of bottle, some sloshing with liquids, other with pills, fell from the bag. Smaller bags of leaves and containers of mushrooms also fell and Rem picked up the nearest bottle.

"What's your painkillers called?"

"Just give me anything. No hallucinogens though."

"They all look the same, Cassiel."

"No LSD. Nothing with lysergic acid."

Rem frowned as she read over the bottles. She then decided to forget it. She walked out of the main room and Castiel watched her go. She wouldn't help him? Not after he took most of the torturing?

Rem came back a few minutes later with some liquor, disinfectant, bandages, and a bottle of pills. She then closed the door behind herself and set in on the ground. She picked up the bottle of painkillers and took a few out.

"I don't know how many-"

"Just give me like five."

"You're getting four because you're an addict and probably lying to me."

Castiel still swallowed the pills without any liquid to wash them down. Rem then opened the liquor up and offered it to Castiel.

"You drink some of that. Not too much though. First signs of you being drunk and I will knock you unconscious again."

Remiel pulled most of Castiel's clothes off, his suit not lasting very long. His trench coat was especially torn by Dean on purpose. Rem then opened the bottle of disinfectant and poured it over Castiel's leg. The fallen angel hissed and tried to move away. Rem placed a hand on his leg and didn't let him. She waited until it stopped fizzing before applying more. When it wouldn't foam anymore, she moved onto the next leg. She then did his arms and chest. Each time Castiel took a swing of the liquor, wondering how she obtained such high concentrated alcohol.

She disinfected a needle and some thread, placing it in a small pool of the disinfectant before starting to sew Castiel up. She frowned as she attempted it, taking it out and trying again a few times.

"Rem?"

"Don't talk. Just, here."

Rem placed about ten different colourful, small pills into his mouth and Castiel swallowed them. She then looked over the wounds and the needle.

"I'll be back. You stay here."

Remiel ran from the cabin to the one person who had been willing to talk to her all this time. Bobby was speaking to another hunter when Rem entered the house. Bobby sent the hunter aside for a moment then glanced at Rem.

"You look like hell. What happened?"

"I need you to tell me how to sew, stitch, a wound closed."

"Kinda hard to explain."

Rem held out her arm where Dean had carved out three sides of a square. She fell to her knees and held out the needle and thread.

"Then could you please show me?"

Bobby sighed before bringing his wheelchair closer and picking up the thread and needle.

"This will hurt."

"It doesn't matter."

"Mark, get me something to disinfect this with."

The hunter from before quickly dug out a bottle of a dark brown liquid and poured it over the wound. Remiel flinched then bit her bottom lip. She watched Bobby sew it up, watched each stroke with great intent. Once it was sewn up she took the needle back.

"Thank you."

Rem stood up and was about to leave when Bobby stopped her.

"Slow down. What cut you up like that, kid?"

"I- it doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. You're running for a reason. For someone. And my guess it Cas because you don't know anybody here besides that ex-angel, me, and Dean. So, who cut Cas up?"

"Dean. But like I said, it doesn't matter. He's your leader, right? And I won't hold anything against the last creations of my father."

"Last creations? Aren't there more of your angels? They just left?"

"Humans have such a funny perception of 'leaving'. And where, pray tell me, did you think they went?"

Bobby was silent for awhile then gripped the sides of his wheelchair in sudden understanding. "So that's it? Mass suicide?"

"We do not use that word. But it is correct. Our father left us with one task. Protect the humans. We failed. Therefor... Well... It doesn't matter now. I'm just foolish enough to think I stand a chance. That everyone here does."

"That's called hope. And it isn't as stupid as you think it may be. I looked you up in some of my books. Angel of Hope, huh?" Rem gave a small nod and Bobby glanced at the needle in her hand.

"I never thought Castiel was Cassiel. Just assumed that idjit was another unnamed angel by human knowledge. Angel of tears and solitude. How true is that?"

"Before five or so years ago, very true. It didn't mean he always felt it, but when it comes, it comes more... vividly to him... But I have to go. Before he bleeds out."

"Then go."

Rem didn't bother gathering her thoughts as she ran back to Castiel. She wouldn't let her brother fall lower than before. But by who's standards, she had no idea.

~XxX~

Castiel couldn't hear a thing, or hardly feel anything. All he was aware of was the heat covering him, the bursts of pleasure from touches and messy kisses. He didn't know who was in his arms. Or what he was on. All that mattered was that he couldn't even focus on his worries if he tried. His mind was free, his body writhing senseless. As long as there was no logical thoughts, he saw no bad in his actions.

Rem was meanwhile gone from the cabin, not yet taking one up as her own. She saw no need to. When her body felt like it would collapse, she slept for a few hours in a tree. Where she felt the furthest away from the humans. From people who were just like her.

She was now up in one of those trees, tracing a finger over a leaf. Feeling each thin vein, each distortion in colour. It was so lovely. This entire world was. So why did it all have to end? Or did Lucifer simply mean the end to the humans. But would that not be as bad as destroying the beauty itself? If nobody could call it beautiful, admire it, it was so. Not even Lucifer, Castiel and Rem combined could offer the same appreciation one stray child may find in something as simple as a butterfly.

She still didn't know who's side she fell on. Nature didn't seem to help. She had to decide and keep moving forward. Like Michael would say, each future held different pros and cons. She would die, if she helped the humans. Live in all her former glory with Lucifer. But could she kill her brother and her last chance to be what she was, Castiel's last chance to regain his own sanity? Would she be able to, sword drawn and pointed at Lucifer? She had to decide and throw everything she had towards one path.

Perhaps she did not come to Earth to help the humans. She came to hide. Fearing death, what would be left after the angels died. Fearing for the survival of her own race. Because hers had given up. But the humans, they fought. For each other and for themselves all at once. They fought and would never give up.

God had told them to bow down to the humans. To love them more than He. Perhaps she was meant to die for them. Her race had no more hope, no further chance of survival. They could recreate faith or heaven. God had left. The angels were dead. Heaven now a graveyard. The only job left for angels was to serve mankind. What better service was to be owed then saving them? Killing their devil once and for all.

She was content with this, before remembering Castiel. What would he say to her plan? He had chosen the same path she did and failed. His survival would only be certain if he joined Lucifer. Should she not make the same mistake? Not help the people who had tortured her brother, flawed like the demons. Lucifer had fallen to destroy mankind. Castiel had fallen to save it. And now Rem, she had fallen to. And she would kill Lucifer, and let mankind decide what to do with themselves after. Without any angel's (fallen or not) interference.

She needed her sword.

Rem slipped out of the tree, landing on her feet silently. She needed to track it down. And then go for it. Tell Lucifer she would never join his side, and kill the last person of her family who embraced any remains of that very family. And perhaps, she could somehow adapt after. Help Castiel with whatever would make him happy. If not, she would follow the path her family did. It didn't matter. A chance was a chance. A hope was a hope. Survival was just that. Survival.

She stopped before the cabin Chuck always seemed to be in. In charge of supplies and what not. She knocked on the open door and Chuck glanced at her.

"Hey, need things for Cas or...?"

"I'm looking for a sword. Previously seen on me."

"Oh. You lost something. I only have guns and knives here, most people keep what they find. But a sword? I don't anybody will actually have use for that. I guess you'll have to look for it or ask around. Sorry."

Rem gave a nod then looked back at the man before her.

"Could you do me a favour?"

"Sure."

"If you see Cas, and he asks for more... drugs or whatever he takes, please smack him. Tell him I told you to."

"No problem. Lover's quarrel?" Chuck gave an amused smile as he watched Rem quickly shake her head. For someone who appeared younger than all the others, she seemed the most polite and focused.

"Family problems."

"You're an angel then?"

"You know about Castiel?" Chuck put a hand behind his neck and stretched slightly, shrugging as he did so.

"Yup. Used to be a prophet." Rem suddenly gave a smile, as if the world just brightened up.

"So you helped Castiel."

"Yes. Well, kind of. I mostly helped Dean and- well, Dean..." Chuck's mood instantly broke as he thought of Sam. Rem had a feeling the entire camp was emotional about the very name.

"... Maybe one day you could tell me a few stories. Help me understand your leader."

"Well, he used to really protect all of us. Used to want to save the world, you know? May not have a plan, but he blindly followed those rules. I'll save my brother. I'll kill Lucifer. I'll save humanity. This year changed all of us. Can't blame Dean for that. Can't blame Cas for turning to drugs. Nobody to blame. And that makes some of us blame everybody."

Chuck began shuffling through some things in a large box. He then pulled out a blade that was the length of his forearm.

"Not much of a sword. But, this may help you. Can't let you go around weaponless."

"Oh, thank you."

Rem accepted the blade then held it one hand. It would do. She then glanced around the place and back at Chuck.

"Do all the people here have jobs like you?"

"No. Most just go on hunts and come back. I find doing something just helps."

"It's rather formidable."

Chuck gave what appeared to be a small blush, turning away from Rem. Rem took that as her leave and left.

"Hey, if you know... You're not busy later-" Chuck turned but Rem was gone. He sighed. Oh well, worth a try. That seemed most like the past things had ever gotten around the camp.


	6. Chapter 6

~XxX~

The next person Rem checked was Bobby. He was once more speaking to a hunter but paused when Rem entered.

"I'm looking for my sword. I don't know if it's human instinct or suspicion, but I think Dean took it. So where would he hide it?" Bobby gave a sigh then shrugged.

"Check his cabin. Five down from here. Left when you step out."

And Rem went right to check it out. Dean was not there, but some women was sleeping in his bed. Rem ignored the women as she dug through various boxes. Luckily she could avoid most of them, her sword not being able to fit in them. She eventually found it covered by a few blankets on a table top. She pulled it out, and slid it into its empty sheath. She then heard movement.

She spun around, the smaller blade Chuck gave her pointed at the source of the sounds. The women had woken up. Rem ignored her once more, but the women screamed. What a horrid human sound. And to say an angel's voice made people's ears bleed.

She got out of the cabin right as a group of hunters surrounded her. Dean was once more in the lead.

"Dean, let's call this family business. I kill Lucifer, and you do your... human things."

"I won't let this blade fall in Lucifer's hands."

"Really? If you cared so much for your species, you'd say yes."

"The angels just messed everything up and left!"

Bobby was now watching the scene, staying quiet and not interrupting this time. Castiel, draped in loose clothes and looking both somewhat exhausted, pained, and drugged also watched. So did the women. You didn't care for most of them though. All you cared about was Castiel, and how the words almost slipped from your mouth.

"Yes, they left."

A tear fell down Rem's eye and she quickly wiped it away.

"They left. They ran away. The fled. They took the path of cowards! I know my family messed up! But we could do nothing! To have the humans die would mean failure in ourselves. Humans have this saying. They say not to speak ill of the dead. Your brother's soul still exists, he is not dead yet. But my family, Michael and all my brothers and sisters, they are dead. So please, don't speak ill of the people who were going to die anyways." Castiel felt something like he was going to puke, and he ducked his head as his chest seemed to burn. He couldn't listen to you anymore. But some part of him made him continue. Not to run away until this was over.

"Michael knew he would die after the fight. It was a fate written by God's own hand. You said no because if you said yes, Sam would eventually be taken over by Lucifer. So why did you not say yes when Sam was taken over? How is your life more important than your brother's? I don't understand you! I don't understand humans! I don't understand emotions! But I can try. This is a chance given to me, like being a vessel was the chance given to you."

"Your chance died when I shot you. You won't kill Lucifer."

"And why not?!"

"Because he healed you. Took the bullet out and patched up your lung. You won't kill who saved you. You'll protect your brother, like I tried. But we'll both lose when it comes to him." Dean put his gun away, crossing his arms and staring down at Rem.

"Lucifer is not the brother I want to protect."

"So screw your life for some drug addict?"

"Whatever you call him, go ahead. I watched him fall for your race. I watched him look up at heaven, wishing he could come back. Whenever anybody invited him back, he said no. He had to do it. He had to help you. It was an alliance, then love, then punishment. So please, just let me do the first really stupid thing in my life. And I'll come back. And solve all your problems for you."

"And how do you expect to do that?"

"The same way you do these days. Shoot the problem."

Dean tackled Rem, and she hit the rocky ground beneath her with much force. She struggled against Dean for awhile, but he soon had her pined down.

"I wasn't speaking of you. I was speaking of Castiel. The man you tortured. We're both doing this for family, right?"

"Fine. You shot my brother, I'll shoot yours. You have four days. Then Castiel dies."

"Four days? Until what, my mission turns to one of revenge?"

"That's how long I'll make him scream for your help. So you better hurry up."

Rem glanced at Castiel, his eyes and pupils wider than what they should have been. She sadly shook her head, trying to make him understand.

"I won't make the same mistake you did. I'll chose to save humanity before my brother. I will not return for Castiel."

Without even giving Castiel a good-bye, Rem walked to the bloody lines which were around the camp. A giant sigil. She glanced back at Castiel then sincerely smiled.

"We survived so much more than this, Castiel. Yet, among these beings, we give that ability away to prolong life. We're quite simply, psycho. I don't know why it's our- and their- nature to hide that fact. But sometimes I wonder why. Or is this sanity? I have no idea."

With one last smile Rem departed outside the sigil and continued walking. She didn't look back at him and Castiel felt an urge to run after her. He tried to stop himself, she couldn't he held back. This was the proper way. Without thinking anything else, Castiel swallowed enough Valium so he wouldn't be able to chase her down. Dean sneered at him, at his immediate turn to drugs. Bobby looked a little displeased by the outcome and Chuck simply stood far away and watched Rem leave. To think their current last hope was tossed out with promises of torture and slaughter of their family. What humanity were they fighting for? Because at this point, being human had nothing to do with morals or sanity. They were just as bad as Lucifer.


	7. Chapter 7

~XxX~

"I hope the croats get her."

"Lucifer would first, boy. They're family. That's your weakness. Should have thought about that before you sent our last hope running into his arms."

Castiel sat quietly at the edge of the table. Usually everyone ate alone. But that evening Bobby invited others over. For what he called a conversation they should have had long ago. Castiel wrapped his arms around himself, ignoring the glances thrown at him. Most thought he was completely useless, he didn't stop their thoughts. Told nobody of the effort he once put into stopping Lucifer.

They were surrounded by hunters who knew of Lucifer and demons. Everybody else didn't believe their talk about demons. They thought it was some type of disease and that was that. Dean wasn't eating, looking like he'd kill everybody in that room.

"I have trust in her."

Castiel spoke the only words he ever did since Remiel left. Dean glared at him like he'd rip his head off. It didn't have a shred of care. Like Castiel was Lucifer himself and they had never spoken before.

"Just because she's your sister? You two hardly even spoke."

"She was heaven's finest warrior for a millennia. Only Michael can defeat her. She has clashed swords with Lucifer a few times before he fell and won. He helped her train her but the moment he fell, she used that to her advantage. If you want to trick Lucifer or beat him on combat, she is superior."

"Cas may be right for once, Dean. So stop acting like an idjit. Should have sent her back up if anything."

"She's on foot."

"With the ability to make Lucifer appear right before her. Alone. Guard down."

"Ya, right in front of our camp. So now he knows our location."

The hunters around them began murmuring and Castiel clenched his fists. He then stood up, ready to leave.

"Sit down, Cas. Nobody's leaving until we come up with a plan."

Soon enough though, Castiel had enough alcohol and drugs in him that he could hardly comprehend English. A horrible reflex to fall onto his mother tongue, which was Enochian. He knew no certain plans were made though. It would always be pointless. There was nowhere else to go. He could only hope, that the angel of hope herself, would complete the job. And then if some miracle was to be bestowed on them, the virus would stop because of that. There was no guarantee.

They were fighting for the sake of doing it. They wouldn't win. They couldn't.

Castiel never felt such disgust for humans as he did then. They were just waiting for death. And Castiel wanted to rip his body to shreds as he was in the same situation. He was waiting with them.


	8. Chapter 8

~XxX~

"Castiel, my dear brother, you're so lost."

Castiel felt cool breath over his heated skin, moaning deliciously, imagining himself back in his bed and drugged up. He flinched as he felt something brush over his bare skin. The feel of his own feathers felt sensual before the bond between his wings and body clicked into place. The drug induced effects seemed to clear and he was back to being an angel.

He sat up, suddenly blushing for moaning. His mind had simply not been aware of where he was. He stood up, ebony wings ruffling themselves to get used to them there. He felt the air get thicker and he looked at Lucifer. The Devil looked at Castiel, right in front of him. He then traced a cold finger to Castiel's parted lips, breathing into the other angel's mouth.

Castiel flinched away from the touch and Lucifer pressed a kiss to Castiel's collarbone. Castiel immediately stopped moving, caught up in a cocoon of Lucifer's wings. The first sign to show dominance between mating angels. He was the submissive one. He moved his head away from Lucifer, not sure if he wanted to escape or if he was giving Lucifer more room to explore. The Devil chuckled against the warm flesh before tracing a hand down Castiel's face.

"I want to show you a few things. I promise you you'll enjoy them."

Within an instant Castiel was no longer in the void. He was in the backseat to the chevy impala, and he glanced around. He was naked and he saw Dean looking back at him from the front seat.

"Castiel? What gives man? You didn't help us against those vampires- are you fucking naked?"

Dean clenched the steering wheel and Castiel slowly sat up. Outside it was dark and night. Castiel found Dean's cellphone between the driver's and passenger seat, and he picked it up. He read the date then felt a breath get caught in his throat. He's five years back in the past. And everything feels as though it should.

"Can you, make some clothes appear or something?"

"Dean?"

"Yup. Who else are you expecting? Sammy's watching guard at the vampire's-" Dean starts talking, trying not to stare at the naked angel in the backseat. He's cut off by a rather frantic Castiel though.

"Lucifer's behind this-"

"No, no, no," Lucifer comes into view and shakes his head, looking at Dean who was now frozen in place.

"This is my gift to you, Castiel. Make love to your human and maybe it'll make you feel better. You're so close to the breaking point... You're so troublesome, little brother." Castiel thought for a moment, looking at the paused image of Dean. To the man he loved. Not the one which had been turned so violent it made Castiel feel sick.

Castiel then glanced back at Lucifer, at the wings folded on his elder brother's back. His true form glowing in such a way it could never be said it represented evil. It was so clear. So white. So pure. As if he had never sinned, never made a single mistake. It made Castiel want to puke. What if in this entire event, he had been the bad guy? What if in the grand scheme of things, it was Castiel and Dean who were on the wrong side. But there was no wrong side.

And that's when Castiel actually did puke. It tasted acidic and Castiel opened his eyes to see it looked almost red. He glanced up at Lucifer, blood gushing from his lips. Lucifer merely smiled.

"I'm in control of your dreams, remember? Or did all your drugs make you forget that? Every angel has a better link when one is asleep. I don't need sleep. But you and Remiel do. You take drugs to make sure you block me out. She doesn't. Do you think she stood up to me? You saw me before the gates to your little sanctuary. You can't even stand up to me now. How could Remiel?" Castiel didn't respond, but he knew that if one dream has him this broken up, Remiel very well could be lost by now. On Lucifer's side. Castiel wipes the puke from his mouth and feels Lucifer's wings trace up his back.

Suddenly he's back in darkness and he opens his eyes. He sits up, the loss of feeling he had as an angel and his dishevelled state, the bitter taste of the drugs on his tongue and hurting wounds on his body tell him he's back to where he should be.

He tries to sit up, but can't. Rough chains are tied around him and he looks around. He's back to where Dean tortured people. Tortured what he called were demons, enemies. Now?, well, what was the difference? They were all condemned to hell anyways. All of humanity was. Castiel along with it.

Castiel tried not to think too much on the fact Lucifer had played with his dreams to help him escape the pain. To offer him what he wanted from Dean instead of the reality of Dean being his torturer. Mercy. Guilt. A kindness, truly. All human emotions. All what marked humans as human. What angels found the most flattering among the species. All present in the devil, none in humans themselves these days.

The devil was not destroying humanity as much as stealing it away.

A/N: I'm not sure if Castiel is having his mind manipulated or if he's just over thinking everything. Who knows? Nice turn from Lucifer being the 'big bad'.


End file.
